Total pages in book: 164
Estimated words: 152666 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 763(@200wpm)___ 611(@250wpm)___ 509(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 152666 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 763(@200wpm)___ 611(@250wpm)___ 509(@300wpm)
He screamed again and spun in a circle, his face contorted in anguish and his pupils blown wide. Terror lined every inch of his body as he contemplated the fate of the flower.
“Great heavens, bub, you took too much.” I set the dish down on the nearest table. What a pain. When he got like this, he slowed everything down.
I held up my hands to show him they were now empty. By rule—another of my few principles—I didn’t make the product too extreme. To get to this level, he’d had to take two or more doses. He was starting to get out of hand.
“Okay, buddy.” I eased toward him slowly. If he wasn’t talked down, I’d have to lock him up. Otherwise, he’d probably turn violent and I wasn’t in the mood. “I apologize. I don’t want to kill the glow. I realize now that it would indeed end the world, yes. I’ve put it down, see?”
He leaned to the right, his head tilted, his eyes definitely manic.
“Let’s just take a breath and think about the emberflies . . .”
He leaned the other way, almost looking at me sideways. Great gods, the product had really gotten on top of him. His journey on this product had taken a sharp left turn and landed him into a field of nightmares. I might not be able to bring him out.
“Let’s drift like the emberflies—“
He balled up his fists and shook them at the heavens, leaning back as he did so. “Who cares about the fucking emberflies! You’re trying to kill the glow!” he shouted, spittle flying. He tilted forward, stumbled, and barreled my way. One big fist swung out as he fell.
I dodged easily. His momentum carried him forward, his legs left behind. He hit the back wall headfirst and then fell to the ground. A moment later he scrambled up, howling like some enraged beast.
No, I would not be able to talk him around. Damn it.
“Good point,” I agreed in a soothing tone, moving fast toward the entrance. “The glow is the most important thing. Let’s focus on that glow. It’s outside. There’s more of the glow outside. Let’s go look at it, okay? I won’t touch it. We’ll just—“
“I know your dirty tricks, you pig-faced monkey man!” He levelled a finger at me. His red face was screwed up in rage. “Your bag is out there, isn’t it? Isn’t it? You have your weapons stored just outside.”
My “weapons” consisted of everyday items, some so dangerous as a nail file. If he got in this state when the pack was inside, he’d empty it on the floor and hold up each item in turn, asking how I planned to kill him with it.
I’d just started leaving the thing outside, because yes, I could probably lodge a nail file in his eye or maybe even reach his kidney, but would I? No. I was only violent if I had no other options—principle number three.
“I don’t have a pack.” I kept my hands high. “See? No pack. I just want to say hi to the moon man. Want to say hi to the moon man with me?”
“I don’t trust you for one second. You’re trying to kill me like all the others. Oh yes, by the gods’ hammer stone, they’ve tried. They’ll never take me alive!“
Fantastic, I thought sarcastically. He’d turned nonsensical. This was when he got the most violent.
Plan B.
“Here’s the glow, here it is,” I said, moving toward the supply closet at the back. “It’s right here.”
He paused in his tirade, his head tilted to the side again, a little drool dribbling out of his mouth.
“Here, here’s the glow.” I motioned him over. “Right here.” I lifted the lid on a wicker basket where the rest of the petals had been stored. Their glow was in its zenith, pale in the room but enough to grab his attention.
“Yes,” he whispered, seeing them and homing in. Louder now. “Yes!”
I acted quickly as he neared. I hooked my foot on his right ankle and grabbed his meaty shoulders. He tripped and I guided his fall toward the supply closet where I kept my contraptions, the transformed apothecary mechanisms. Those on the lower shelves could be fixed by other villagers if he broke them. They’d had practice.
The shove I gave him sent him flailing through the opening. He crashed into a shelf, screaming again. I grabbed the door handle and pulled it shut before he could get his bearings and turn. I latched the door from my side, knowing there was a door at the back of the closet that led outside. It wasn’t locked. All he’d have to do was find it and free himself.
I doubted he’d figure out how for a few hours. He hadn’t in the past.
This was another of my principles: a way out. All products that induced a journey, whether it was good or bad in the moment, had an “off” switch. If a person hunkered down into a small, dark place, the drug’s effects on the brain would greatly recede. The drug would go dormant, in a way. The product didn’t leave the system, but it gave the brain a way to handle things a little better.